Lady Pleasure: Are you kidding? Ha ha!
Mike: Hey, now wait a minute. Now wait just a minute.
Crowd: We want The Monkees! We want The Monkees!
Davy: Give me a W!
Peter: Give me an A!
Micky: Gimme an R!
Mike: What does it spell?
Davy: I can’t see, it’s too deep!
Mike: What you say?
Davy: I said I can’t see, it’s too deep! I’ve got to have a boost or something.
Peter: Well, I’m wearing mine.
Micky: That’s cool.
Mike: See that you do.
Reporter: Hold it! This one’s for Life!
Private One: Where’d he go? Where’d he go? Where’d he go?
Mike: He’ll never make it through this intense bombardment. Nobody could.
Peter: I thought you’d like it better.
Micky: Wow! Stars! Hey, that’s great, Pete!
Micky: My canteen is empty. But once it was full.
Micky: I felt I couldn’t go on.
Micky: I can’t.
Micky: But something, something kept telling me I must, you must.
Micky: I must.
Micky: Ah… no! No no! Nah! Nah!
Things go better with Coca-Cola
Things go better with Coke
Micky: I can’t.
Micky: It’s pitiful.
Micky: Shut up.
Micky: You shut up.
Micky: No, you shut up.
Micky: You shut up!
Micky: Shut up!
Micky: Okay, I will.
Micky: I can’t, I can’t hear! No, I, I’m deaf! Come back! I’m going de—oh!
Voice: Quiet, isn’t it, George Michael Dolenz? I said, quiet, isn’t it, George Michael Dolenz?
Vitteloni: Ma sei Americano?
Vitteloni: Surrender! Ah, oh, boom-boom. Surrender.
Testy True: Quick! Suck it before the venom reaches my heart.
Mike: Oof! What heart?
Micky: Hey, come on, get up, lady, you’re not dead. Hey lady, come on, get up, stop acting.
Testy True: Hey, what is this?
Micky: Hey, come on, stop playin’, it’s all over, it’s all an act. Come on, get up.
Testy True: Well, stop kicking me!
Micky: Ah, I don’t want to do this anymore, man. Oh, these fake arrows and this junk and the fake trees, Bob, I’m through.
Lord High ’n’ Low: I been lookin’ all over for you creeps, where ya been?
Lord High ’n’ Low: I been lookin’ all over the world for ya!
Mrs. Ace: Changing your image time? While you’re at it, why don’t you have them write you some talent?
Peter: I ordered this and I don’t want it.
Micky: So throw it away.
Peter: I can’t. There are starving Ch—
Micky: Little starving Chinese.
Peter: This is serious.
Mrs. Ace: Are you still paying tribute to Ringo Starr?
Micky: Would you like a pinch in the mouth?
Mrs. Ace: I’ll think about it.
Micky: Don’t hurt yourself.
Mrs. Ace: And I’ll throw in a side of mouthwash, phew, on the house.
Micky: Come on, let’s get out of this nightclub.
Mrs. Ace: But what about the food?
Mike: Have it cleaned and burned. Come on, Pete.
Davy: Psst! Eh, come here. Now this is serious. What you say you and me go someplace where we won’t bump into each other again? Ha ha ha.
Micky: I’m tellin’ him to stay down.
Mike: He’d better. The money says so.
Minnie/Teresa: Please don’t, Davy. Davy, don’t. Please don’t.
Davy: They pick the round and I pick the guy. Don’t worry, Teresa. I won’t get hurt.
Davy: Great. I’ll have a go at him. You won’t hurt my face, will ya? Million dollar head, this.
Bob: Why him, Davy?
Davy: Well, you know, I like him. He looks like a nice guy and I like his smile. Go on, see if you can hit me, just once, just once.
Micky: I told him to stay down!
Mike: Yeah, well, he didn’t hear ya.
Micky: Stay down, dummy!
Mike: You’re the dummy.
Micky: No, no no, he’s the dummy!
Mike: You’re the dummy.
Micky: No, no no, he’s the dummy! He’s the—
Mike: You are the dummy, dummy!
Micky: Dummy, huh?
Peter: Micky? Micky? Micky? I’m the dummy, Micky. I’m always the dummy.
Micky: You’re right, Pete. You’re always the dummy. I forgot. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You’re always the dummy, Pete. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.
Peter: How do you feel now?
Mrs. Ace: Oh, comme-ci, comme-ça.
Peter: Hey, Bob, that’s not right, man.
Peter: Oh you know, about hitting a girl. Ace, was that alright, man? Did that look good?
Mr. Ace: I thought it looked great.
Peter: Yeah, but about hitting a woman and everything. Man, it’s about the image and everything, it’s not right.
Man: Peter, I hate to interrupt—
Peter: Yeah I know, it’s for your niece, it’s quite alright. What’s her name?
Peter: Bob, it’s a movie for kids, they’re not gonna dig it, man!
Peter: No, Bob, it’s for the image, man, think of it, the kids aren’t gonna dig it, man. Me hitting a girl. Especially the way I feel about violence and all that stuff, you know? You know everybody does—
Bob: We’ll cut it out of the film, if it doesn’t work, we’ll cut it out of the film, come on.
Peter: Yeah, well, you tell me that, man, and it never happens. They tell me they’ll cut it out of the film—
Bob: Peter, let’s go.
We know it can be rough
But not if you get Tuff
For Tuff, Tuff Tuff
Tuff removes dandruff
Peter: Ah, mother of pearl!
Mike: …Cigarette? Oh! Ha ha! This is not one of your standard brands!
Peter: Imagine having to smoke that whole thing.
Mike: Smoking may be hazardous to your health.
Micky: See that, Davy?
Micky: Hey, you stuck up there, Davy?
Micky: Somebody has to be on the bottom.
Mike: Well, I’m the tallest and the strongest.
Micky: So you’re the bottom.
Mike: I—oh, well…
Peter: Everybody’s where they wanna be.
Micky: That was a particularly inept thing to say, Peter, considering that we are in a vacuum cleaner.
The Critic: Song was pretty white.
Davy: Well, so am I, what can I tell ya?
The Critic: You’ve been working on your dancing, though.
Davy: Oh yeah, yeah, well, I’ve been rehearsing it. Glad you noticed that.
The Critic: Yeah, doesn’t leave much time for your music. You should spend more time on it because the youth of America depends on you to show the way.
The Critic: Yeah.
Cow: Monkees iz the craaaziest people!
The Cop: Come on, out!
Micky: Hey, why’ve we stopped?
The Cop: I don’t even wanna hear why or what from you, just out!
Mike: Oh, well, sure, anything you say.
The Cop: Ah, get outta here.
Micky: Hey, what’s gonna on?
The Cop: Move it, out!
Peter: Oh, hello, officer, certainly glad to see you.
The Cop: Come on, all of you, move it.
Peter: Officer, we were only just trying to look—
The Cop: Don’t you try it. Just out! Outta there!
The Cop: Shut up!
The Cop: Okay, weirdos. Just what were you doing in there? And this better be straight.
The Cop: You. Fuzzy wuzzy!
Peter: But sir, we were just looking for David Jones.
The Cop: David Jones? Who’s David Jones?
Davy: He’s crazy. They’re all crazy. Better not mess with me though! Come on, come on, put ’em up. Come on!
[Peter whistles The Beatles’ “Strawberry Fields Forever”]
Peter: Talk about police brutality.
Peter: Well, let me tell you one thing, son. Nobody ever lends money to a man with a sense of humor.
Micky: The Lancashire Midget Greenie! Aaah!
Mike: Now here’s my plan…
Micky: We told you a hundred times, good officer, sir. Uh, we last saw him inside the john… uh, comfort room.
The Cop: Victor Mature!
Mike: And I’ll tell you somethin’ else too… the same thing goes for Christmas!
Mike: Now, how ’bout them apples?
Lord High ’n’ Low: ’Atta boy, Mike. That a boy. ’Atta boy, Mike. ’Atta boy, Mike.
Lord High ’n’ Low: Boys, don’t never, but never, make fun of no cripples.
Man: Somebody come up and giggle at ya, that’s a violation of your civil rights.
Man: Are you telling me that you don’t see the connection between government and laughing at people?
Extra: How’s about some more steam?
The Jumper: Oh, I’m gonna do it, I’m gonna do it, aaah!
Micky: I say she won’t.
Mike: Of sure she will, man, ten dollars says she will.
Micky: Ten dollars, huh?
Mike: Peter, don’t be rude.
Davy: You tell me nothing’s wrong, huh?
Peter: That’s right, David.
Davy: Something’s wrong with you, man. You’ve got a sheet on, you look weird!
Mike: Peter, what are you doing?
Davy: Yeah, Peter, what’s with this room?
Micky: What were you yelling outside? I couldn’t hear you, all of the noise.
Peter: Hmm, but you listen now. Now that it’s too late.
Micky: Heh, come on, Peter.
Peter: “Come on, Peter,” and before it was “Shut up, Peter,” and from you, “Don’t be rude, Peter”.
Mike: Now look, Peter, if you know how to get out of this box, man, you sure better tell me—
Davy: Just cool it, Mike, will ya? Just cool it, let him do it in his own time.
Peter: Thank you, Davy.
Davy: Look, just take your time, Peter, man, I’m with you all the way down the line. You hear that? Right down the line.
Peter: Am I being clear?
Peter: Where there is clarity, there is no choice, and where there is choice, there is misery.
Peter: But then, why should I speak? Since I know nothing.
Davy: Nothing? You know nothing?
Peter: That’s right.
Davy: You mean to tell me we’ve been sitting here listening to you and you know nothing?
Peter: Don’t you see, David? It doesn’t matter whether we’re in the box or not.
Micky: This box is right now, composes our universe.